Shattering, Breaking, Dying
by Cr8zeCorbinFangirl
Summary: Buffy is shattering, breaking, dying. All because of him. Set after ChosenHint Hint Please RR.


Title: Shattering, Breaking, Dying.

Summary: Buffy is Shattering, Breaking, she's dying. All becuase of him. After Chosen (Hint Hint)

I know it's gonna be weird, but I wrote it in about 10 minutes. Anyway, gtg. Bai!

Abby-chan!

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Buffy walked, high and tall. If only she could feel that way. All high and mighty, but she knew she could only act that way. Her friends found her happy, joyful, and awake with life. But deep down, there was another Buffy. The real Buffy. The joyous Buffy that everyone saw was just a ghost. A piece of trapped air. She was dead. She had died when he burst into flames and ashes. The real her was as well dead. Her entire self was dead. Nothing inside her, or outside her, was alive. She would only spring to life when she finally was in his arms. When she was looking into his blue eyes. When her lips were locked with his.

So, until that happened, she came here. She no longer patrolled the grounds of the renewed, non-Hell mouth-occupied Sunnydale. She just came to his crypt every night, and left in the morning, returning to her friends. She no longer ate, hardly slept. She was a scrawny little ghost. Her hair had lost its shine. Her hair was now replaced with dull, yellow locks instead of her beautiful gold curls. Her eyes no longer held the glint of happiness and joy in her hazel crystals. She looked around, her eyes lifeless, as well as her body. Vampires had come nights before, finding her, and she didn't fight. They saw she was already hurt, so they didn't bite her. Instead, they did...among other things to her. And she didn't care. She couldn't feel it. No pain, nothing. She felt nothing anymore. She walked over to the red-velvet coffin. She walked around it, her fingers trailing along the velvet. She climbed up on and sat in the middle. Her fingers trailed a circle around her. Memories of times of her hurting him, loving him, being with him, flooded into her mind.

She couldn't take it anymore as she fell onto her side, curling up into a fertile position, and cried. She cried so hard the world faded away from her, leaving her to cry away every single pain in her body. She never ran out of tears, she never became better. The only thing that would bring her out of her depression would if she saw him, standing there. She was crying so hard, she didn't here the door open and close, she didn't hear the footsteps, she didn't feel the hands on her head and her shaking body. The only time she actually stopped crying, was when she heard his voice.

"Love?" She froze. No way. It was him. His accent, his nickname for her. Everything. She turned only slightly, only her head, to see his blue eyes, filling with concern. They zoomed all over her body. If only he knew, how badly he hurt her when he burst, how badly she made the pain go away with cuts and bruises. His eyes met her, and she could've sworn she heard a gasp escape his lips. She slowly reached up her hand, letting it glide upon his cheek, before dropping. His pale warm skin felt good underneath her cold, trembling fingers. He was real; he was really there, back from the dead. He was there, in front of her, and he wasn't going away.

"S-Spike? Is that really you?" She asked, her voice coming out like a scared child's. That old smile crept upon his lips.

"Yeah, I am. I'm here to stay, love." She jumped up at the sentence. Her arms wrapped around him, her chin on his shoulder, as tears of joy, that first joy she felt in a long time, sprang out of her eyes. She sobbed into his neck as he stroked her hair, which returned its color. Her eyes received that shine she lost, and her fire reflamed. She could feel again, she was alive once again. She kissed his cheek, and then returned to his neck, smelling his sweet scent. Her scars and bruises vanished, and her body looked as if nothing had ever happened. She pulled out of his arms and his hand wiped away her tears. She smiled through the streaks left. He was here, and she finally felt...complete. She was happy, she was in joy, and importantly, she was with her love. She was with him, she was with Spike. Her brown eyes looked deep into his blue ones. They inched closely to each other until their lips locked.

Buffy began to moan as she pushed his head in deeper; Spike began to pull her in closer and pushed his tongue to her teeth, wanting access. She granted, opening her mouth wider, and his tongue roamed inside her. They parted when oxygen became a problem, but held onto each other as they climbed ontop the coffin, and slept, Spike holding onto Buffy, and Buffy hanging onto him for dear life, thinking in her mind that if she let go, he'd disappear again from her life. She finally was completed. She felt happiness, more happiness than ever before.

Her eyelids finally closed as a smile crept over her lips. She was in peace, she was happy, she was...in a dream. This wasn't real. She was dying in reality. This was her fantasy. She had come here, true, she had collapsed and cried, but Spike had not come back. She had just fallen asleep. He was still gone. Sunnydale was here, but he wasn't. She was dying, and she would be reunited with him again soon. All she had to do was wait until first light, then, only then, they would be together. For now, she would sleep in her fantasy. No matter what, she would finish this fantasy. She would finish it, and then die. Then she would be with him, with her love, with...Spike.

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Please Review. I'll give you a new car if you do. Well, not really, but i'll give you a thank you, does that do? PLEASE REVIEW, I BEG OF U! Anyways, please? 

Abby-chan


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